


Burn, Along with These Memories

by Anonymous



Category: Senki Zesshou Symphogear
Genre: A lot of (brief) flashbacks, Angst, Best Symphogear character, Canon Compliant, Carol is underrated, Gen, I didn't tag Izark cause he doesn't appear physically, Introspection, Like almost the entire fucking fic is introspection, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:02:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22679152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Carol wants to know the answer. She's an alchemist. It's her job to find the one solution. And if it means dissecting the world into nothing, she'll do it. That's what she's been preparing for. For centuries, she's been working meticulously. Her plan is perfect, carefully laid out in front of her like tiles on a chessboard. All she has to do now is move the pieces carefully, one by one, so that she can earn that checkmate - the answer she's been looking for ever since.When a fire reminds Carol of the day her beloved father died, she takes some time to reflect.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: Anonymous





	Burn, Along with These Memories

**Author's Note:**

> *slams fist on table* CAROL DOESN'T GET ENOUGH LOVE
> 
> No joke, she's probably one of my favorite characters of all time, and the lack of fics that focus on her is utterly disturbing, so I AM HERE TO FIX THAT! I've always found her backstory and how she changed from this sweet and innocent child to a cold, ruthless, and cruel master alchemist who'd stop at nothing to see her plans completed really interesting, and I wanted to dive more into that! Characterizing her was tough, but I think it turned out pretty nicely :D
> 
> Enjoy!

The sickening screams of people and the sounds of the sirens of the ambulance fill the air, smokey and dark from the flames that rise from every direction. Fire dances from house to house, building to building, to the ground, consuming everything around it, lighting up the dark sky with bright orange colors. It's truly a terrible sight - or that's what some people might think.

And from the roof of a single home, uncaring of the rising smoke or spreading flame, stands a young girl. She is clad in a short red dress, an enormous blue coat is worn over it, billowing out behind her as it sways in the wind, an off-white scarf with a pattern reaching down draping over her front. Her blonde hair, tied into an extremely long braid, flows behind her, as if following the motion of the smoke-filled air. Tears line her beautiful bluish-purple eyes, glistening in the light of the inferno blazing all around her, but a large black wizard hat, crimson-red bow tied around it, hides her expression for her. The intense orange reflects in her beautiful eyes, reminding her of a terrible past she never wishes she'd known.

"If it is not a divine miracle, it is the devil's wisdom, and too much for human hands! Let there be a judgement! Purify the taint of Izark with the flames that cleanse sin!"

A man's voice loudly echoed throughout the congregation of people as the crowd merely watched, a blonde-haired man, wearing a black robe over him, tied to the burning stake. His daughter, so young and innocent, could do nothing but scream and cry his name, held back by certain other seemingly faceless men.

"Papa, papa! PAPA!!!"

Her father does not look fazed, smiling in his last moments. Even then, when everything had been about to end for him, he spoke.

"Carol...live, and know more of the world."

"The world...?"

He gave her one last smile, "That is your..."

The flames consumed him, and nothing but his last words were left behind.

"Papa..." The girl whispers softly, yet knowing that it's pointless. No matter how many times she calls his name, he'll never come back. She's alone, all alone.

She wishes the memory would just disappear. This scene...it's just like how it was that day. Curling her fingers into a fist, she clenches tightly, hand shaking. Her mind flashes back to more images, more memories, forcing herself to remember something, _anything at all...!_

That day they'd gone exploring, searching for a special kind of herb in the mountains together...Papa's smile as he looked down at Carol--

 _"I'll become a great alchemist just like you!"_ How she'd so admired Papa, swearing to become the very best of them all... _but in the end, there would be no one to look up to._

No...get out, go away!

Biting her lip, Carol closes her eyes, a stray tear falling below. She doesn't _want_ to remember his death, she has plenty of memories to cover it up, so why can't she forget? That same memory presents itself before her, unfolding. This is so unlike her, all she's ever thought of, all this time, are her father, her Papa's words - _to know more of the world._

She remembers every little thing. Even what he'd told her as they spent time together, in every way possible. _"That's our job as alchemists, to make people happy."_ He'd said it so confidently, as they exchanged smiles and laughs, _yet no one was happy. Who had they been kidding?_ Although she wants to open her eyes and see that there's nothing more to remind her of _that day_ , she can still smell the smoke in the air, hear the roaring flames, just like on that very night. It's vivid, far too vivid, sticking with her like a punishment she must endure.

Somehow, the smell also reminds her of the time Papa had tried to cook for the first time. A horrible scent wafting from the kitchen, he'd utterly _failed._ She remembers giving him a bright smile, confidently holding up a cooking ladle. _"You're an alchemist, Papa. Aren't you supposed to figure it out? Well, then! Until you do, I'll cook all of your meals for you. That way, it's sure to be delicious!"_

...When was the last time she had smiled like that, so happily, so genuinely?

She certainly knows Papa's smile, perhaps _too well_. After all, even as he burned, he only smiled. Nothing more, nothing less. But to Carol, just looking back on his face...it's nothing but _agonizing_.

Oftentimes, Carol thinks about the meaning behind Papa's words. Like alchemy, she'll keep going until she finds the one true answer - but it's not as easy as a simple alchemic formula that needs to be memorized. This is something far more...far deeper than anything else. These things are far more delicate than mere formulas and combinations, after all. But that's why she's doing this. It's why she wants to dissect this world. The world that rejected Papa, the world that _killed_ him...with the secrets known only to her and Papa, she'll take it apart, piece by piece, until everything crumbles away and nothing is left. That's what Papa wants... _isn't it?_

 _"Carol...live, and know more of the world."_ There had been no tears in his eyes, no trace of regret, no sign of fear. He knew not such things, the kindest soul Carol has ever known. As if he had expected to would die soon. All he had to offer, even in his last moments, had been that gentle, loving smile of his, and those final words that were entrusted to Carol. For all these centuries, she's worked tirelessly, swearing to fulfill those words. And in order to do that, she's thrown away all her emotions. Her heart is no longer capable of feelings things like regret. She's long since removed such things from her system, all for the sake of Papa. It's as if it were punishment for allowing this to happen, for being such a weak, frail child.

But things have changed. She's not the curious, sweet girl she once was. She's strong now, powerful. A master alchemist who controls the elements effortlessly, who can destroy anything and everything. Surely, he would approve of this. Because this is the right thing to do. She's carrying out his will, as if it were part of an alchemic formula. Rinse and repeat. Rinse and repeat. That's all her life has been. And now, it's finally time to set the gears in motion, to put everything together. The tears don't stop falling from Carol's eyes, but she doesn't bother to wipe them away.

Through her tears, she sees the flames raging. Seemingly endless, the smoke and screams of people continue to rise into the air. But she won't forget Papa's death. She won't forget that day. She knows she can't, but there's no more turning back. She can't dwell on the past any more than this.

But...deep inside, a small part of her wishes those memories would just burn, disappear and fade away into nothing. That she wouldn't need to do this, that she would just move on and pretend like everything is fine.

It's not. It's not fine. She can't just look away, avert her eyes from the truth, forget everything that happened and live a life unaware of the tragedies. _No_. She has to face them head-on. She has to find the answer to Papa's last words, to complete what she's set out to do for all these centuries. Carol isn't a coward, she won't hide. So, those memories replay in her head, over and over, but no matter how much it hurts, she won't turn a blind eye to what's in front of her.

_What is it, that Papa was really trying to tell me? What is the true meaning behind his words?_

Carol wants to know the answer. She's an alchemist. It's her job to find the one solution. And if it means dissecting the world into nothing, she'll do it. That's what she's been preparing for. For centuries, she's been working meticulously. Her plan is perfect, carefully laid out in front of her like tiles on a chessboard. All she has to do now is move the pieces carefully, one by one, so that she can earn that checkmate - the answer she's been looking for ever since.

The burning world around her reflects in her eyes, in her soul, like a mirror returning back everything she's worked for, the memories of Papa. A perfect reflection on its pristine surface. But ever since Papa burned away, gone in the tides of the world, that mirror has forever been changed- like how she's thrown away all emotion, the image it gives back isn't perfect, not anymore. Much like her life - once the epitome of peace, living together with Papa. But his death, as if it were one single blow, cracks the glass. And her life has never been the same ever since, taking a dark turn, leading her down the path she's been walking for so long. She can't go back. It's impossible.

Searching for the true meaning behind Papa's words, knowing that it won't just come to her magically - it had been enough to drive her insane. At one point, that is. Now, Carol can't feel even that anymore. All she knows is revenge and the alchemic secrets left behind, her alchemy, her _own_ alchemy...the memories and words she's been entrusted with. She doesn't cry. She never has, not ever since Papa's death. There is no place for such things, no time to entertain weakness. She's come so far without shedding even a single drop. And yet...

Just the memory of that night, the sound of the flames crackling upon Papa's bound form, the echoes of the people screaming for his death, to the point where it's almost deafening...the smell of the smoke from the fire, even the dark sky lit up by the bright lights of that hellish inferno, is enough to move her to tears. She shuts it away in the corner of her mind, never to be rekindled again, but somehow the thought had come to her almost immediately this time. Though the building fire has finally begun to wear out, people shouting below and putting it out, the memory of that day won't go away as easily as water putting out a simple flame. The tears are still falling, but Carol doesn't lift a hand.

She wonders if the emotions she's thrown away would one day roam the sky freely, like a dream that never truly fades away. The happiness that she's forgotten, the happiness Papa had given to her...they're _there_. But she hasn't felt the warmth of joy for centuries. _Determination_. That's what it is.

Yes...determination. Determination to dissect this terrible world that rejected Papa, determination to find the one true answer to his last words. That's the job of alchemists like her...to make people happy. That's what Papa once told her, yet all she feels is this drive, resentment. Is this the 'happiness' that Papa would always talk about? She _will_ bring about the end of the world, she _will_ fulfill Papa's wishes.

The drops of liquid that fall down her cheeks eventually stop as the building fire finally dissipates. She smiles darkly, lips curling up ever so slightly, the shadow of her large black wizard hat covering her eyes. Her long, frilly blue coat flows behind her, billowing in the suffocating air, as if it were excited. That's right. This is no time to linger on the past, and she can't afford to focus on trivial things like tears, emotions. Not after all this time, patiently working towards her goal, waiting for this very moment, this very day. The gears are set in motion, and soon, the cursed melody will begin at last...

Carol Malus Dienheim's alchemy will destroy the world, and complete the Apocalypse of All Things.

**Author's Note:**

> If you noticed, I did steal like one or two lines from Exterminate because I was listening to a Carol playlist of Exterminate + songs from the OST; specifically all the songs that are related to Carol in some way. It actually helped a lot.
> 
> Anyway! I'll definitely write more Carol stuff because WE NEED MORE CAROL FICS IN THIS WORLD
> 
> Thank you for reading, and see you again soon!


End file.
